Gentle, Gentle
by imp2016
Summary: Bella and Edward have a story book romance. Bella is his princess and Edward is the prince who can defeat the dragon. But this is not a fairytale. This is New York City and Bella is a struggling writer and Edward is a Wall Street bastard. And Jacob is a dragon. Rated M for future updates.
1. Chapter 1

Bella slipped out of the bathroom into their bedroom. Edward was asleep on the bed, over the covers, still dressed in his office clothes. She lit a few candles and popped the chilled champagne. Edward didn't stir, the poor man had been working twelve hour days to finish his business proposal, but he finally handed it to his boss that evening. The two couples had gone out for celebratory drinks in his honor. His boss, Emmett, laughed loudly at Edward's jokes about the stock market and the economy as his wife, Rosalie, politely made conversation with Bella. Bella didn't mind their frequent outings with Emmett and Rose; she knew that Edward and Emmett's friendship outside of work hours was important to him, it just bored her immensely to entertain the cold and beautiful Rosalie Hale. Rosalie Hale was ice, beautiful, hard, cold, and dangerous. She was one of the most prominent lawyers in New York. Bella Swan in comparison was young, gentle, and warm. An aspiring writer. After drinks, the couples said their goodbyes and, as if on cue, Emmett made his one allowed dirty joke for the night. Edward laughed uncomfortably at the joke, snaking his arm around Bella's waist and placing a chaste kiss atop her head. They waved their good-byes and reassured Emmett that Edward would indeed still go to their weekly poker game on Thursday.

Bella poured the champagne into two flutes, silently congratulating herself on surviving the night with the Hales. Slowly she made her way to Edward, still resting on the bed. She leaned over and loosened his tie, placing a kiss on his lips to wake him. Edward stirred and blinked his eyes sleepily at her. His eyes registered the dark bedroom, candles lit in the corners. Two glasses of champagne sat on the table on the far wall. Beside him, Bella sat in a lacey night dress. She had washed her makeup off and a faint black line ringed her eyes, only serving to make them look wider. Her hair hung loose but only to where it grazed her shoulders, having cut it in the summer on their vacation to Florida to visit her parents. Smiling, she leaned down and kissed him again. Her lips were soft against him in that gentle, Bella way. Always testing to see if he wanted her. And he did.

"Hey there, handsome. I'm a little thirsty, aren't you?" White teeth shined behind her pink lips. Bella loved Edward's birthday; last year she planned him a surprise party and the year before, they had gone on their first date. She continued to toy with his tie, popping the closest buttons on his shirt open. Edward sat up to kiss him, but she walked away to get the drinks. Handing one to him she said, "cheers, baby." and crashed her lips against his, more determined this time. Breaking apart, they clinked glasses and took a sip.

"So what does the birthday boy want to do tonight?"

"I can think of a few things," Edward's eyes glinted mischievously.

"Oh no, sir," Bella's smile reached her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. "Good things come to those who wait and you promised we could have some fun this year."

Bella loved Edward. He was her sun and moon. He was her everything. She wanted to make sure that everything was perfect for their evening tonight. She cleaned their Brooklyn apartment. It was small and quaint. Edward and she had moved in together at the beginning of the year after both of their leases had ended. Bella was still unsure of their apartment. It had taken a while to get used to the new layout. They had moved into a one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, New York. The kitchen had new appliances and was decorated in an industrial style. Bella had decorated their room and cacti and tapestries for a homey look. Cacti were about the only plants she couldn't kill and she looked after them with an almost motherly affection. Her favorite was small and compact on her nightstand. She loved the delicate flower that bloomed encompasses by sharp needles. She always thought it was so romantic the way something so fragile could sit atop something so dangerous. She mused about herself and Edward whenever the stared at the plant for too long.

Edward would say the same thing, too. Bella was his delicate, fragile flower that bloomed only when taken care of. Edward was the protector. Ready to fight for her whenever threatened. He was protective to a point of obsessive Bella liked to say.

Mr. Monkey interrupted her thoughts. He was a fat Maine Coon like Mrs. Norris from Harry Potter. He loved getting into things and belly rubs. More than once Bella had to pick a needle out of Monkey's paw whenever he tried to play with her plants. But now Monkey was only looking for breakfast. Edward never fed him. Monkey was a gift to Bella after a particularly bad fight that had left Bella crumpled and in tears. She had always wondered why Edwards wanted a living reminder of the night that almost broke them apart. Nonetheless, Monkey was as good as her child… despite the fact she had always considered herself a dog person. Edward had banned dogs, saying they were smelly, dirty creatures. Bella had laughed, at least dogs don't shit in the house. Monkey, at least, was as close to a dog as a cat could be. He chased the little toys she threw for him and brought them back to her. He sat with her on the couch and he begged for any scraps that might "accidentally" fall to the ground.

Bella sighed and rolled out of bed. In the mirror she saw herself in the black night dress she had fallen asleep in. She had worn it just for Edward and all they had done was slept. She tried not to feel disappointed. It was her fault for telling him to be patient that caused him to roll over and fall back asleep. Monkey trotted behind her with his tail flicking happily in the air. He hopped onto the counter as she opened the fridge door and pulled out the cat food. She loved the routine Monkey and her had fallen into since he was carried through that door a year ago. Monkey purred as she placed the food dish in front of him and he attacked the unidentifiable sludge of tuna.

Bella went back into her room and made their bed. Every day was the same: wake up, feed Monkey, make the bed, go to Soulcycle, grab a juice with friends, and camp out in a coffee shop, park, or her home office and pray to whatever god might be out there that could help her come up with something to write about. Bella was what her parents described as a "struggling artist," at least she might have been if she hadn't met Edward when she moved to New York two years ago. She met him through her dog walking job.

Emmett hired Bella through a dog walking app to walk his Irish Wolfhound, Bud, as he climbed the Wall Street ladder. When he opened the door to let Bella in he burst into a fit of laughter. Bella's five foot three frame was a little funny in comparison to Bud's massive size. Bella, who had grown up with dogs, was undeterred by the challenge. She simply smiled and asked if he had any concerns that she could clarify. He tried to hold back another giggle and said, no, that their trial walk should clear up any worries about whether she was up to the task. After a two hour walk and a trip to the dog park, Bella was hired as Bud's new dog walker.

A few months in to her new job with Emmett, Bella had come back from a light jog with Bud. Sweaty and panting, she let herself into the apartment and poured herself a glass of water from the Brita in the fridge. As she gulped it down greedily, she heard moaning coming from the cracked door leading to the room of Emmett's roommate, the elusive Edward that Emmett always talked about during their weekly meetings. The meetings were to discuss how Bud did on the walks, where they went, what they did, who they met. Bella had never met someone as passionate about their dog's bowel movements as Emmett, but then again, she had never met a dog as happy and loving as Bud. The meetings always turned into a weekly update and Bella was beginning to suspect that she and Emmett might have started becoming friends over the past few months. During these meetings turned hangouts, Emmett always mentioned Edward, his best friend, roommate, and coworker. Bella always smiled politely at this and redirected the conversation toward Bud.

The moaning continued, soft and deep. Bella felt her cheeks blush for a reason unrelated to the brisk jog she and Bud had participated in. Edwards moans and her panting flooded her ears to a deafening volume. She felt the need to escape immediately. Completing her daily chores with Bud, she tried to exit when she realized the moans had stopped. Turning around from the entry door, she found herself face to face with who she could only assume was Edward.

Edward was tall and pale. Shirtless, she could see his muscled abs leading into a low "v" that dipped below the elastic of his boxer shorts. Catching herself, Bella snapped her eyes up to his face. His jaw was strong and defined, but his lips were soft and pink with the corners upturned. The lines of his straight nose blended seamlessly with the arch of his brow atop green eyes that reminded her of leaves. His hair was tousled and cooper in color. Thinking she had been looking at him for too long, her eyes darted to the floor. She could see his defined calves in her peripheral vision. Her chest heaved from the run and from the shock of coming face to face with this Adonis she'd heard so much about.

"You must be Bella." He stated matter-of-factly. His eyes had a sharpness about them, as if he were a predator stalking his prey. "Well, Miss Bella, did you enjoy eavesdropping on me? I knew you were listening."

Bella had _not_ been listening, but she was not about to contradict the man that had her cornered. Not when she could feel the heat rippling off his body or feel his breath on her shoulder. She looked up at his tall frame, "no, sir, I -"

"You didn't enjoy it?" Edward smirked.

"I," Bella stuttered, "I didn't feel any way at all." She said praying that she could escape. Bud came to her rescue after having lapped up half his bowl of water. He pressed his wet muzzle into her stomach. "I better refill his water." Bella ducked by Edward and moved toward the sink.

Edward didn't move, only turned a little to face her, but held his casual stance at the door. Bella didn't try to make conversation and she bent over to place Bud's water bowl down. He attacked it with renewed vigor. Bella stood up slowly, washed her hands, and moved back toward the door. Edward shifted for her to go by. She left without another word, cheeks flaming.


	2. Chapter 2

Bella sat in the coffee shop. The exposed brick and pipe seemed to be trending in all the shops. Every coffee shop, bar, restaurant Edward had taken her to in the last few months seemed like a never ending train of pipes and russet brick. The worst, Bella thought, were the walls that were clearly just a facade of brick. _We are all faking it._

Normally Bella tried not to be so pessimistic. This was the life she had dreamed for herself. A little apartment in the Brooklyn with a boyfriend that was financially responsible enough that she could quit her job to write full time. She live in New York City. It is the center of the world so why couldn't that be enough for her?

She thought back to what Charlie used to say to her when she spent summers with him.

"You're ungrateful," he would mutter when she said she missed her mother and Phil. "And a snob. What! My tiny house isn't good enough for you?" His breath reeked of stale beer. The whole dingy, small house reeked of stale beer. "Are you going to run off from me like your whore mother."

That phrase would always send an unpleasant mixture of nausea and rage bursting through Bella. It would start low and deep in her belly and try to swallow her whole. Instead it would make her face green from choking down the boiling emotions. Arguing was useless when he was that drunk. She would just prepare his plate of beef and grey, frozen vegetables, knowing the veggies would find themselves either in the trash or the toilet. She would smile prettily at her father and rest on the couch next to his beaten up La-Z Boy.

"Of course I won't run away, Daddy," she would consol him. "But I have to go back to school in August."

She felt pity for her father. Renee said he hadn't always been like that. He had once been so full of life. He had been vivacious. He had taught her everything she knew about spontaneity. Then everything changed when Renee got pregnant. Charlie hadn't wanted a child, neither had her mother. Their souls were too wild to be pinned down by a baby. But Charlie was a devout Catholic. So he and Renee eloped. Bought their tiny house in a tiny town. Charlie climbed the ranks until he was made Sheriff. They became the perfect domestic couple. Silently hating themselves, their world, and each other. Renee ran away and Charlie picked up drinking. Meanwhile, baby Bella sat in the corner, growing tall while watching the paint of her parents fading marraige chip away until Renee met Phil.

Phil was the first man to save Bella. Edward's one and only predecessor.

Writing for Bella always seemed to follow a pattern. She would settle herself in to whatever surrounding felt right, she would observe the stillness or commotion of the room, and then she would try to just describe what she saw. In her bedroom she filled pages on the exact color of the her pillow and how the deep blues contrasted with the bright yellow comforter all against a soft grey wall. The pillows were marked in the center from where her and Edward's heads had rested the night before. The comforter was crumpled but fluffy, filled with warm down feathers. The wall was pale, meant to open the room but fade into the background. Bright, inviting, comforting, soothing. A harmony of colors and textures that she could put on paper, not with paint but with words. She thought that made her special. She thought that she could see the world differently from most people. Even a pillow could be so extraordinary in her small brown eyes. But she would not let another soul know that she considered herself about average. After all, she did not possess talent. That is why she did her writing in the one coffee shop in town where you could get a cup for three dollars instead of five. If she had even a modicum of talent, she would have scored a book deal. Or at least have finished her damn novel by now!

Bella took a breath. She would not let her frustration overwhelm her. She sat down to type.

"Will I ever get to read what my little Hemmingway is writing," Edward called dotingly from their bedroom. Bella was in the kitchen preparing Monkey's dinner. Edward was changing out of his work clothes and into something more formal. Despite tonight being his birthday, he and Bella had to go out to some fancy dinner in Manhattan with a client. Edward assured Bella it would not be a stuffy occasion and "shoptalk" of any kind was strictly prohibited.

Bella had muttered under her breath. "How on Earth do you expect to accomplish anything if you cannot discuss what the one thing that brings you together?"

Edward had merely raised a brow and smirked. It reminded her so much of the first time they met she had to take a breath to steady herself. It always shocked her how off balance a single glance from him could make her. She new that tonight would go well. Edward was a master a networking and and schmoozing his way up the corporate ladder. It was how he had risen so quickly in the first place. That and his privileged upbringing. His father, Carlisle, was a senator of Connecticut and his wife was from old money down South. Bella was never sure. But they were the perfect couple to model her own relationship after.

"You can read it when I won't die of embarrassment from it!" Bella responded airly, but if Edward were to read what she had written she just might collapse. Her words were a part of her most intimate thoughts and feelings and although Edward and she were also celebrating two years tonight, she was not ready to show him that. Not yet at least.

Edward walked out of their room in a dark suit. Bella had picked up the pants and jacket from the dry cleaner after she had left the coffee shop that day, exasperated and emotionally drained from the scene she had been struggling for so long to write. His pants were pressed and fit him perfectly. They had been designed for him by the family tailor the most recent time Carlisle had run for office. His tie was a crisp onyx. He was dark with sharp edges. Bella was in complete contrast to him. She wore a blush dress that flowed loosley against her subtle curves. Where Edward was sharp, Bella seemed as light and soft as a cloud when the sun breaks the horizon. Bella slipped on a pair of nude heels she had gotten for herself when she was applying for internships in college. She loved the feeling of being even a few inches taller even if she knew that it would only end with her feet screaming at the end of the night while she tries to appear calm. But Edward loved her in heels. And today was his birthday. And she wanted him to be happy.


End file.
